


the boy king

by kylermalloy



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon, Blood, Blow Jobs, Child Abuse, Dark!Klaus, Haircuts, Hand Jobs, I'm not kidding he's a little devil, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Murder, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, Voyeurism, basically one change: klaus is a sociopath from the start, elijah is helpless, he's so screwed you guys, it freaks mikael out and it's hilarious, klelijah - Freeform, so much blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 17,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27304033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylermalloy/pseuds/kylermalloy
Summary: A series of fic snippets set in the universe where Klaus was never innocent.Originally posted on tumblr.
Relationships: Elijah Mikaelson & Klaus Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 38
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! I've been posting these snippets on tumblr, and I figured it was time to move them to AO3. The chapters are in the order I originally posted them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the tumblr post that started it all. Originally I just threw the idea out into the void and never intended to write any more - but...here we are.

Okay but

In the universe where Klaus was never innocent

From the moment he’s born Elijah is wrapped around him

And oh, Niklaus loves him, clings to him, is enraptured by him and completely devoted to his big brother

Toddling, chasing after him, eager and proud to show him things— _ Lijah, Lijah _ —drawn to him every moment of the day and night

But there’s a hint of  _ wrong _

In his lingering touches, his hungry smile as Elijah dotes on him, his command of Elijah’s every thought

His jealousy if Elijah gives attention to anyone else, even their own siblings

And Elijah  _ belongs _ to him; he’s powerless under his little brother’s adoration

Rebekah will never understand the love between them—it transcends their love for her, for their siblings, for Mother

She tries to be what Elijah is to him, to do anything he asks, to give him every minute of the day, but it’s not the control he desires—it’s simply  _ Elijah _

Mikael sees it in him from a young age and it terrifies him beyond words

He tries to beat it out of him; he tries to get others to see

_ He’s a child, Mikael, he’s your child—stop hurting him and let his brother tend to him _

And Niklaus smirks in triumph at Mikael as Elijah cradles him and kisses his forehead—Mikael seethes and wonders how he can get this abomination away from the rest of his children

Sometimes Mikael wonders where Niklaus came from, with his pale, pale, otherworldly glow and arresting gaze that hypnotizes Elijah

Could such a devil really have come from his loins? Maybe the gods sent him a trickster.

_ It isn’t right, _ Mikael insists, the way Niklaus looks at Elijah.

_ They’re children, _ Esther argues.  _ They mean no harm. _

There’s a hunger in Niklaus’s eyes when he watches his brother. The way his eyes rake over Elijah’s jawline, the way his gaze lingers a second too long at his throat. The way he places himself just a little too close to Elijah, breathing him in. Letting his lips graze over Elijah’s ear.

_ He’s beautiful, _ he hisses in Mikael’s ear during the night.  _ And he’s mine. _

Mikael wakes in a cold sweat to find Niklaus has disappeared. Or maybe it was a dream.

Who can know what filthy things he whispers into Elijah’s ear.

When they’re teenagers, there’s a girl in the village who talks to Elijah. Niklaus sees the way she smiles and giggles with him, flipping her hair over her shoulder, her fingers brushing against Elijah’s for the briefest moment.

They find the girl two days later, dragged deep into the woods and torn to shreds. A trail of her blood, spilled on the forest floor from gashes in her arms, attracted the predators that eviscerated her. The villagers blame the wolves.

Niklaus sits in Elijah’s lap to comfort him.

Mikael catches Niklaus curled inside Elijah’s embrace in the night.

_ I had a nightmare, Father, _ he claims innocently. His head tilts to one side with an expression that’s anything but innocent. His whole body, growing longer and leaner by the day, presses against Elijah’s.

Elijah’s fingers tangle in his little brother’s hair as they lay with their foreheads touching. He drowns completely in Niklaus’s gaze and that’s when Mikael  _ knows _ Elijah is utterly lost to him.

What frightens Mikael the most is that Niklaus does not fear him in the slightest.

When they become vampires, Niklaus delights in the ease of the kill, but he delights more in Elijah’s discovery of the same. While Rebekah struggles to contain her hunger, she watches her brothers take joy in killing not just out of hunger, but for sport.

Elijah chafes and protests, but Niklaus begs and he relents. Rebekah isn’t frightened by the blood that decorates them, but their rapturous expressions. Niklaus’s satisfied smile as he watches Elijah unhinge. Elijah looks to Niklaus for approval, reaching for him with a blood-smeared hand.

Rebekah leaves them tangled up together, Niklaus resting his head in Elijah’s lap. His fingers reach up to trace Elijah’s face, thumb collecting blood from Elijah’s lips that he brings down to his own tongue, mouth red and smiling.

When they discover that they can feed from each other, Rebekah is sure they’ll never stop. She’s half fascinated, half horrified by her brothers’ euphoria. Niklaus begs Elijah, like a child asking for sweets, and when Elijah gives in and offers his throat, he buries his hands in his little brother’s hair and holds him there.

And when Niklaus asks, Elijah pins him against the wall and sinks his teeth into his baby brother’s shoulder. Once, Niklaus catches Rebekah watching them. He holds her gaze with a wickedly contented smile. She averts her eyes, focusing instead on Elijah’s hand. His palm holds Niklaus’s to the wall, thumb stroking his slender wrist. Niklaus’s fingers clench in the throes of some ecstasy.

Rebekah supposes she will never know exactly why Mikael starts hunting them, but she cannot help but suspect it has something to do with her brothers.

How they’ve spent their entire lives hopelessly entangled— _ filthy, _ Mikael used to spit at Niklaus.  _ Abomination. _ Niklaus would widen his bright eyes, filling them with tears. All while entwining his fingers in Elijah’s.

Now when Mikael flings the word at him, Niklaus turns his blood red lips to their father in a sweet, cloying smile.  _ I know, _ he croons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	2. Chapter 2

There is something wrong with Niklaus.

He is born early, Esther says, but strong.

He has strong lungs, at least. His cries wake half the village at night. Even Esther tires of soothing him.

But not Elijah.

Elijah, whose cheeks have not lost their baby fat, whose solemn demeanor seems out of place on a boy who has barely lived four winters. He takes to Niklaus in a way Finn never has. (Finn has never taken to Niklaus, nor to Elijah himself. Unlike Freya, he is ill-suited to the role of eldest.)

Elijah holds his brother tight, murmurs words past his sharp, piercing cries, until Niklaus quiets.

Only for Elijah.

As the boy grows, he does not outgrow this habit. If he wakes in the night, Elijah is there in a heartbeat to hold him, soothe him back to sleep.

Mikael swears Niklaus smiles with satisfaction.

When Kol is born, he cries too. Loud and insistent, demanding the safety of someone’s arms—the security all infants crave. Elijah rolls over and covers Niklaus’s ears to block out the noise.

.

His voice is like a faerie’s call to Elijah. One cry is all it takes to summon him.

While Elijah hunts with Finn and some other village boys, Niklaus trips at home and nicks his arm with a blade. His piercing scream barely reaches Mikael’s ears, but within minutes Elijah is back from the woods, casting aside his bow and game to cradle his little brother.

_ What can be wrong? _ Esther wonders at Mikael’s seething anger.  _ They share a bond. Our children should protect each other. _

_ It’s too much, _ Mikael wants to reply. It’s an inadequate description.

Niklaus only smiles inside his brother’s embrace. Not a contented smile, either—it’s triumphant, self-satisfied. When he meets Mikael’s eyes with a smile, Mikael swears he’s gloating.

It’s not right. Something is not right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	3. Chapter 3

“Lijah, see what I’ve found.” Niklaus holds something up.

Elijah recognizes it. A cord of woven grass, just wide enough to fit over the wrist of someone delicate. A single green stone dangles from the circlet.

He’s the one who made it—he spent a week of evenings crafting the bracelet for a girl in the village.

Marit has long golden hair, a narrow face, and a husky but pleasant voice. She remarked to Elijah the beauty of his mother’s green stones—he replied they would suit her eyes.

She smiled when he presented his gift to her, touching his arm in flustered thanks.

“I found it on the ground, near the fire pit.” Niklaus brushes at a spot of soot on his knee.

Elijah stands. With one hand he lifts the green stone and studies it. “I gave this to Marit just yesterday.” He fastened it around her wrist himself. She walked away with a broad smile, cradling his gift like a tiny treasure.

That she would lose it, let it fall from her hand, or worse, purposely take it off and drop it by the fire—hoping it would burn?—hurts him more than he’d care to admit.

“I suppose she didn’t want it,” Niklaus muses. His pale blue gaze is fixed on Elijah.

Elijah’s heart sinks. Marit seemed to like him, seemed to enjoy his affections. She promised to wear his gift with what sounded like sincere words.

He can barely reply, “I suppose not.”

“What a shame.” Niklaus tilts his head to one side, studying the little trinket. “It’s beautiful.”

_ You’re _ beautiful, Elijah wants to say. His brother’s hair spills over his shoulders in gentle golden waves. It catches the sunlight and almost seems to glow.

He has finally begun to grow taller. A few years, and he will be the same height as Elijah. His voice has dropped, developing a husky timbre. His laugh is still the same—intoxicating and melodic. And he still knows how to make Elijah weak at the knees with only a few words.

Niklaus, admiring Elijah’s woven handiwork with a careful eye, is the most beautiful thing Elijah has seen all day. He wants nothing more than to tell him so.

Instead he says, “You can have it.”

“Really?” Niklaus peeks up at him with hopeful eyes.

“Of course, brother.” Elijah tucks Niklaus’s hair behind his ear, letting his hand trail down the side of his neck.

Niklaus wets his lips, forming a shy yet delighted smile. Elijah imagines running his thumb over his brother’s lips, parting them, feeling his warm breath...

He stops.

Niklaus has yet to see his fourteenth winter. He's still young, still delicate. It’s still Elijah’s job to protect him.

To love him, the way a brother should.

“Will you…?” Niklaus holds the cord out with an expectant expression. His eyes sparkle, full of emotion.

Elijah ties it around his wrist securely, running his finger over the color pattern of greens and browns he spent so long crafting.

In the light of day, there’s a brighter streak of color in it. Orange, maybe. Or red.

Niklaus lets his fingers ghost across Elijah’s wrist. Elijah gasps and shivers as the sensation whispers up his arm, leaving behind a ripple of raised hairs and tingling skin. For a moment he can’t even move, lost in the sensation.

His brother knows how to break him with one touch.

Niklaus turns his hand over, lifting it to the sun, admiring his new trinket.

“It suits you,” Elijah tells him. His heart flutters a little, and he adds quietly, “More than Marit.” Her passive rejection still stings.

He turns and sits back on the ground, next to the sharpening stone where he hones Father’s blades.

He jumps when he feels breath on his cheek, lips brushing his ear. Niklaus leans over his shoulder. Strands of his golden hair tickle Elijah’s neck.

He croons in Elijah’s ear, voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t need her, anyway. Not when you have me.”

Maybe it’s accidental, the way his lips close over Elijah’s earlobe, teeth grazing skin for one heartbeat.

Elijah flinches, the blade in his hand slipping and opening a small cut on his thumb.

Niklaus huffs a laugh. He seems pleased to know the effect he has on Elijah.

Something about the bracelet rankles in the back of Elijah’s mind, and continues to do so the following day when Marit’s father leads a party into the woods to search for her.

No matter. The stone brings out the green in Niklaus’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You should ABSOLUTELY check out the lovely art my friend has drawn for this AU: [find it here!](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com/post/631314850411331584)

_ “Rebekah.” _

It’s rare to hear Elijah’s tone so firm. Ordinarily he has nothing but kind smiles and gentle words for her. This time he is sterner. Almost…reproachful.

All four of her older siblings stare at her with varying degrees of shock. Finn looks marginally less bored than usual. Kol glances with wide eyes back toward home, as if making sure no one heard her. Niklaus seems more amused than the rest. A smile plays on the edge of his lips.

“What?” Rebekah looks at each of them defensively. “I dropped my water.” The pottery shards lay at her feet. Although the word burst from her with little conscious thought, her frustration is well-deserved.

Elijah raises one hand toward her, palm out. “Regardless, that kind of language is…not appropriate.”

“At least not so close to home,” Kol chimes in. Having ascertained Mother or Father have not heard Rebekah’s outburst, he seems now to find it quite entertaining.

“Kol, please.”

Elijah lays his hand on her shoulder. (Another time, she would kill for such closeness from him—normally Niklaus likes Elijah all to himself. Now, though, she just feels patronized.)

“Sister, wherever you heard that word…you must not say it where someone can hear.”

“It’s a word for grown men and women, not little girls,” Finn adds. “Be grateful Henrik isn’t here to hear you.” 

“Yes, Henrik,” Elijah says. “He’d repeat after you all day long, and then where would we be?”

Hot anger rises in Rebekah’s stomach. At fifteen, she can’t be thought of as a little girl anymore. She doesn’t need Finn’s condescension, layered in his trademark disdain.

But Elijah’s smothering, wrapped up in genuine concern, almost angers her more.

“ _ You _ say it,” she spits at him, knocking his hand from her shoulder. “I’ve heard you. I  _ learned _ it from you.”

Elijah’s eyes widen at her reaction. “Rebekah, what—”

“Don’t pretend,” she snaps. “I hear you all the time. In the dark, at night.”

Elijah’s mouth falls open.

Rebekah holds his eye defiantly. She wants him to know, to grasp fully the depths of her knowledge—what he does at night.

Just last night, in fact. Her peaceful sleep was interrupted before the pearl gray of dawn—muffled grunts and moans and swears, punctuated with gasps of  _ Niklaus _ ,  _ Niklaus _ . It’s the only time Rebekah has heard her solemn, noble brother  _ whimper _ .

Elijah mouths soundlessly at his little sister. For this, he has no response.

Finn sighs in resignation. Kol looks down at the ground, clearly wanting nothing to do with this conversation.

Niklaus’s amused half-smile has turned into a wide, satisfied smirk.

Elijah stands frozen, his expression torn between horror and sadness.

Rebekah glares at him, hating his hypocrisy.

Niklaus steps closer to him (since his last growth spurt, his height is within an inch of Elijah’s) and runs one hand down Elijah’s side. Never taking his eyes off Rebekah.

(One night, nearly a year ago, he caught her staring. He held her gaze across the flickering fire embers as an unsuspecting Elijah pinned him to the floor and gasped into his neck.)

He enjoys seeing her squirm.

His hand slips under Elijah’s shirt at his waist, caressing bare skin. Elijah goes rigid. His eyes unfocus, breaking contact with Rebekah’s.

One more conversation with him she’ll never finish.

Niklaus flashes his too-bright smile at Rebekah.

She can hardly remember the days she wanted his favor.

Rebekah watches Elijah shiver under Nik’s fingers, hating him. Longing for him.

Mourning him.

Her heart aches for the brother who carried her on his back and found her flowers for her hair.

That Elijah is almost entirely gone, swallowed by an Elijah who hisses obscenities in the dark of their hovel as Niklaus tears him apart under their shared blanket.

All the while Rebekah rolls over and buries her face in her arm. Listening in spite of herself. Wondering what they’ll do next.

Swear words are the least of what she’s learned from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	5. Chapter 5

“I liked when your hair was short.” Niklaus plays with a strand of Elijah’s dark hair. “I miss it.”

As boys, Mother kept their hair trimmed and tidy. Once they start to become men, though, she lets it go.

Elijah’s reaches just past his shoulders. It’s long enough to tie back. Niklaus runs his fingers through it often. (His own hair has always grown far too quickly for Mother to keep up with.)

“I like it now,” Elijah muses. It makes him feel mature. Like a man.

“Mmm.” Niklaus’s tone is thoughtful. “No. I’m going to cut it.”

Elijah’s heart skips a beat. “What?”

Niklaus studies him, runs his fingers over the twin braids on either side of his face. He squares his jaw and nods. “I’m going to cut your hair.”

It isn’t a question.

His declaration is confident and matter-of-fact. It leaves no room for discussion.

“Nikla—”

“Wait there,” he says, speaking over Elijah’s half formed protest. He rises and sprints back toward home.

Elijah furrows his brow, confused at the turn of events. Does his brother truly mean to play this game?

Niklaus is back in what seems like no time, wielding a pair of Mother’s shears. “Sit up, brother.” He nudges at Elijah’s knee with the toe of his boot. Just like Mother used to tell him.

Elijah looks up at him, amused by his little brother’s imperious tone. “Niklaus, must we do this?”

He answers without a second’s hesitation. “Yes.” Unwavering.

Elijah’s breath catches. He’s serious.

“Why?”

His reply is just as instantaneous. “Because I want to. Now,” he kneels in front of Elijah and speaks with a tone of iron. “Sit. Up.”

Elijah straightens. When Niklaus speaks like this, his will crumbles. He becomes clay in his little brother’s hands.

He doesn’t want this. But Niklaus does.

And so it will be.

Niklaus runs his delicate long fingers through Elijah’s hair. Elijah sighs, relaxing at the familiar, pleasant feeling. He leans forward, into his brother’s touch—always desperate for more.

Niklaus’s hand hardens in his hair. Forms a fist, almost pulling. “No.”

His other hand slides down to cradle Elijah’s jaw. He leans in and whispers his next command.

“Don’t move. Not until I tell you to.”

So it would be a game, then.

Elijah straightens again. Back ramrod straight.

Immediately Niklaus’s hand softens. He plays with the long strands more, tilting his head this way and that. Studying. Contemplating. Then he stands and circles around behind Elijah.

Elijah feels his fingers brushing through, selecting a perfect strand. He shivers.

“Be still, brother,” Niklaus reminds him. His voice is simultaneously soft and sharp like a knife’s edge. “You have to be perfect.”

_ Why? _ Elijah almost asks. He presses his lips together, remembering the instruction not to move.

Niklaus continues as though he’s heard Elijah’s question anyway. “For me.”

The shears close.  _ Snip _ .

.

Elijah sits still, under his brother’s command. Letting Niklaus have his way. (He always gets his way. Elijah will see to it.)

Niklaus is gentle. His fingers probe Elijah’s scalp with a tenderness that melts Elijah’s insides. He doesn’t speak. The only sound is the  _ click _ of the shears, snipping through Elijah’s hair one strand at a time.

His neck quickly grows cold without long hair to shelter it. Gooseflesh blooms on his newly bared skin. (Niklaus’s fingers brushing over his nape don‘t help.)

Elijah clenches his fists, desperately containing his body’s urge to shiver. (He can’t tell if the shivers are of pleasure or of distress. Maybe both.)

Niklaus lets a shorn strand tumble over Elijah’s shoulder, down the front of his tunic. He runs a finger across the back of Elijah’s neck, just below where his hair stops. “Much better already,” he murmurs. “Now I can do this.”

He kisses Elijah’s neck. His warm lips caress the sensitive skin just above where neck meets shoulder. 

Elijah bites his own lip, fighting to remain still. Niklaus’s lips move back and forth, daring him to respond. Elijah knows his brother—this is a challenge.  _ How long before you break? How long before I break you? _ Niklaus revels in his power.

Elijah wins, this time.

But he knows Niklaus will try again.

.

Elijah manages to sit still and straight, despite a growing ache in his back. Mother’s haircuts never lasted this long.

His heart hammers against his ribcage as Niklaus begins to work around his ear. The shears are especially loud up close, snipping away until his left ear is exposed. One finger strokes the soft skin just behind the ear. Elijah clenches his legs, determined to stay still.

“Li-jah,” Niklaus admonishes in a sing-song tone. “I can feel your heartbeat. Pounding through you like you’re a drum. I wouldn’t want to make a mistake—” He pinches Elijah’s earlobe gently between the jaws of the shears— “—because you’re too excited.”

He’s beyond excited. Frightened, exhilarated, on edge. Niklaus makes him feel everything and nothing all at once.

Elijah closes his eyes in concentration. He breathes deeper, obeying. Slowing his heart. Keeping his body stock-still.

“Good.”

Niklaus presses a kiss to the hollow beneath his ear. Breathes a whisper against his skin. “You see why I like it short?”

Elijah’s breath hitches. He is starting to.

.

The sun moves further and further west as Niklaus continues to work. Dark strands of hair litter the ground around Elijah, whose legs and backside have begun to ache numbly.

“Should—shouldn’t we go?” he breathes desperately, almost silently. Moving his lips as little as possible. “Getting late.”

Niklaus pauses work on the hair just above Elijah’s other ear. The shears hang heavy and close to Elijah’s skull.

Finally, Niklaus replies. “No.”

The shears close again with a  _ click _ .

“I’m not finished.”

Elijah’s stomach throbs. 

He hates and loves how his brother commands him. Since he could talk, Niklaus has spoken with a certainty that what he wants will happen.

Maybe it’s that certainty of his that holds Elijah captive. (Maybe his certainty comes from knowing Elijah will do what he asks.)

Maybe it’s something deeper.

He can’t suppress the tremor that runs through him.

“And I thought I told you to sit still.” The shears close again—this time, the angle ever so slightly wrong. Elijah feels a hot, minuscule sting at the top of his ear, where his brother has nicked him.

His hand is steady—this was no careless slip. This was a consequence for Elijah—he lost that challenge.

“Don’t worry.” Niklaus runs his tongue over the pinprick of pain. “There’s no blood.”

Elijah throws a silent, pleading prayer to the gods above.

.

Elijah manages to remain motionless for the rest of the haircut. Niklaus unravels his twin braids and shears the hair short. Snips off the long strands remaining on the crown of his head. Lets them flutter down, dusting Elijah’s cheeks before they settle in his lap.

The air cools, and it’s only then Elijah notices his cheeks are damp with sweat…and tears.

His fight to sit still has caused the sweat, certainly, but he’s not sure when the tears came—or what they were for.

In spite of his throbbing back, in spite of his reluctant participation, he would gladly sit here all night. If Niklaus asked it.

Finally, Niklaus dusts off his scalp. His fingers close briefly around what little remains of Elijah’s hair.

“I left some for you.”

He kisses the top of his head. His hands slide down from Elijah’s temples to his jaw. Elijah grits his teeth, struggling,  _ struggling _ , until he lets go.

Niklaus circles back around to face Elijah and kneels in front of him. His eyes are playful. Satisfied.

His thumb wipes the moisture off Elijah’s cheeks. (He touches the same thumb to his tongue.)

“So much better,” he muses. “Beautiful.”

He is so close. Moving in closer still. His lips are a hair’s breadth from Elijah’s. Elijah aches to lean forward, to close the tiny distance between them.

_ Please. Please. _

Too late. Niklaus leans back. Gets to his feet.

Elijah stifles a whimper.

“You can move now.” He says it so casually.

Elijah unclenches his fists. His palms ache from nails digging in.

“Go ahead, feel. Do you like it?”

Elijah lifts one hand gingerly, feeling the cold on his neck, his ears, his temples.

It’s shorter than Mother used to cut it. Shorter than the length of Elijah’s littlest finger.

Niklaus has always had an artist’s hand. Elijah’s hair is tidy and even, if too short for his liking.

Elijah looks up. Niklaus is admiring him with a smile—one that is hungrier than usual. He runs his hand through one side of Elijah’s hair, coming to grip just behind his ear.

Of course he left enough length to pull.

Elijah’s insides twist. “Yes, I like it.”  _ If you do. _

Niklaus’s smile grows, delighted. A dull roar fills Elijah’s ears.

(His brother’s joy has always been  _ loud _ to him. He’s never questioned it, never even mentioned it to anyone.)

“ _ Now _ ,” Niklaus declares, “we can go home.”

.

At supper Kol teases Elijah, ruffling his shorn hair and calling him  _ little brother _ . Esther smiles faintly when she sees his transformation. Henrik stares at him with wary child’s eyes until he crawls in Elijah’s lap, having ascertained that it’s still Elijah.

Rebekah stares silently at the space between him and Niklaus. (She has always longed for the attention Elijah basks in. Elijah wonders idly whether she would let Niklaus cut off her hair too, if he so desired.)

Later, before bed, Finn asks Elijah dryly, “When are you going to stop being his plaything?”

Elijah is bewildered. “Plaything?”

“You let him do whatever he wants to you. But he’s not a child anymore. You’re going to spoil him.”

Elijah wants to roll his eyes, though for once Finn seems to be in earnest.

Instead he says, “I can’t stop him. I don’t want to.”

Finn’s lip curls in disdain. “Then, brother,” he pronounces, “you are worse than he is.” He walks away without another word.

Elijah scoffs.  _ Spoiled. _

Niklaus, spoiled. How can a child—not a child anymore, not at fifteen—be  _ spoiled _ living in a place like this? All he wants is the attention of his older brother, and that is not too much to ask.

No, it’s Elijah who is spoiled, spoiled by his perfect little brother’s presence. Spoiled by the smiles that flash a little bit of tongue. Spoiled by the feather-light touches, designed to weaken his knees.

Spoiled by the long-limbed body that presses against him at night, gripping his shorn hair and tracing his jaw with parted lips. Spoiled by the soft voice that breathes in his ear,  _ Don’t move _ , and slips a hand below his belt.

Spoiled, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	6. Chapter 6

“Elijah, come.”

Mikael does not need his second son’s help. The boar he skins is small. A task easily completed by one person.

His true wish is to extricate Elijah from Niklaus. The two sit across him by the fire, their legs entangled. Niklaus laughs at whatever Elijah says in his ear.

Upon hearing his name, Elijah moves to stand, to untangle from his brother. But before he can take a step toward Mikael, Niklaus tightens his hand around his wrist. “No. Stay.”

“Elijah,” Mikael repeats. He hardens his tone, hoping, hoping the crack in his voice goes unheard.

Elijah casts an anguished glance at Mikael, then down at his brother. Like it pains him to part with Niklaus.

Niklaus turns his head to glare at Mikael. His eyes, those bright eyes, are unfathomably cold. There is a hatred in them that even Mikael, who simmers with fury every day, cannot comprehend.

Flames from the fire lick the air, adorning Niklaus’s face with angry sparks. The flickering light catches his features, turning them down into something sharper, more dangerous.

He drops Elijah’s hand, but he does not drop his withering gaze from Mikael.

Any of his other children would have pouted, and Mikael would ignore their childish antics. But as Niklaus relinquishes Elijah to him with a murderous glare, Mikael’s fingers prickle toward the sword at his belt.

All children ought to fear their fathers. Niklaus does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	7. Chapter 7

He is losing Elijah.

Mikael watches his sons lounge under a tree side by side. They hold hands. Niklaus plays with Elijah’s fingers, running his hand over them one by one.

After some time, Niklaus guides the same hand to rest on his thigh, where he continues to stroke Elijah’s fingers.

It’s the expression on Elijah’s face—slightly unfocused, enraptured, breathless. Ecstatic.

From a simple touch.

That is what convinces him.

He needs to tear Elijah from Niklaus. The devil child has sunk his claws into Mikael’s second son, and he must do something about it.

.

Esther is perplexed when he informs her of his plans.  _ A hunting trip? Now? We have enough meat for another moon. _

_ Finn and Elijah,  _ he hedges.  _ They’re growing up. They need more experience. _

Esther shrugs.

.

Elijah responds with quiet acceptance, as he usually does. That is, until he is informed that Niklaus will not be coming along.

He bites his lip, winding one arm around Niklaus, who clings to him like a lifeline.

_ How many days? _ he asks.

_ As many as it takes, _ Mikael says. His gaze is on Niklaus, whose lip has begun to quiver. His bright blue eyes widen, filling with tears that begin to flow and do not stop.

Elijah places a consoling hand on Niklaus’s golden hair, his own expression despondent.

_ As long as it takes to shake that blight from your mind, _ Mikael adds silently.

Elijah reluctantly prepares to depart, gathering weapons and provisions and a fur pelt for the cold nights. All the while Niklaus trails after him, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pleads with Elijah to stay.

Mikael waits impatiently with Finn by the large oak while Elijah kneels before Niklaus, thumbing the tears from his cheeks and speaking quietly to him. Brushing the hair from his face. Gripping his arms assuredly. Enveloping him in an embrace, kissing his forehead.

Niklaus places one hand on Elijah’s face, thumb stroking his cheek. Elijah spasms. His eyes close.

In the brief moment that Elijah is not looking, Niklaus turns his head and looks directly at Mikael. Through his tears, there is a fury in his face that no boy of eleven years should carry.

The hair on the back of Mikael’s neck prickles, as though sensing a predator—or an attacker.

Then the moment is over. Elijah stands, slinging his bow over his shoulder. He walks away from Niklaus, toward Mikael and Finn, who straightens from his crouch and remarks,  _ Finally _ .

No one else has seen. As always, Mikael is left alone in his knowledge.

Elijah’s face pinches with emotion as he nears Mikael. Niklaus watches him go, face shining with tears. Standing alone, shoulders slumped and face smudged, he looks almost as helpless as he should.

Almost.

As they leave the village, Niklaus follows them to the edge. He clings to a tree at the border, staring after them tearfully.

Elijah glances back until Niklaus falls from sight.

Mikael breathes a little easier.

.

Esther watches her sons say their goodbyes. Both are pained by the separation, but Niklaus appears inconsolable. Tears spill from his big blue eyes like they haven’t since he was an infant.

She follows him to the edge of the village, ready to console him as Elijah, Finn, and Mikael disappear into the trees.

But as soon as they are gone, something changes.

When Niklaus turns around, his face is calm and composed. He passes a hand over his cheeks, wiping away the tears—which have stopped flowing almost alarmingly fast.

His brow is smooth, his eyes clear. His lips press into a thin line.

_ Niklaus? Are you all right? _

He meets her eyes coolly.  _ I will be, Mother. _

.

Mikael takes them far.

Finn and Elijah follow unquestioningly, deeper and deeper into unknown woods. They do not stop—not for the deer Finn sees in the distance, not for the burrow of rabbits that could be trapped.

Elijah continues to look back from time to time. Looking, searching for the cursed child he left behind.

Mikael watches him closely, waiting for the spell to break. How far must he travel? How many days must they spend apart, before Elijah is whole again?

.

Niklaus seems adrift without Elijah.

Esther watches him wander the village aimlessly. His fingers flutter empty at his side. He sighs often, long loud breaths meant to catch others’ attention, for them to ask him his troubles.

Esther did wonder if Mikael’s impromptu trip was another of his attempts to separate Elijah from Niklaus.

Although her secret is safe from Mikael, her husband still harbors an intense grudge against Niklaus.

Her sweet, golden boy. Her secret joy.

He becomes petulant and cross without his brother to temper him.

Rebekah tries to console him. She follows him all day, placing a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly to him. More than once he pushes her away, but she will not be deterred.

—That is, until she comes home in tears, cradling her arm, after Niklaus pushed her down a knoll.

_ You ought to know better, _ Esther chides him as she binds Rebekah’s wrist.  _ You’re a strong, growing boy. You must know to stop before you hurt someone. Especially your sister. _

He shrugs.

.

They make camp after walking all day. Elijah eats little. While Finn sleeps soundly, Elijah tosses and turns on his pallet.

Sleep evades Mikael. The woods are peaceful tonight, but he cannot shake Niklaus’s expression from his mind.

Niklaus haunts him day and night.

He enters the camp, having followed them undetected since they left home. He kneels over Elijah’s sleeping form, inhales his hair.

_ You can’t save him from me, _ he hisses in Mikael’s ear. Mikael is paralyzed, unable to reach for his weapons.

_ He’s mine. He will always be mine. _

Mikael wakes with a strangled gasp.

.

The family next door wonders where their dog has gone.

Rebekah stays inside, playing with Henrik. She moves her injured wrist gingerly.

Niklaus returns from the woods, announcing he has found a beehive full of honey.

His hair, hands, and sleeves are inexplicably damp. He must have fallen in the stream, Esther reasons. Wouldn’t be the first time.

She recruits him and Kol to collect the honey.

The bees have all gone from the hive when they arrive, leaving a bounty of honey for them. She reminds her sons not to sample too much as they harvest it. Niklaus in particular savors the taste, licking golden drops off his fingers.

_ We must save some for Lijah, _ he declares. _ When he returns. _

_ Of course, _ Esther reassures him.  _ There will be plenty for him, and Finn. And Father. _

Niklaus smiles his bright, honey-sweet smile.  _ Not Father. Father can’t enjoy sweet things. He’s too bitter. _

.

The snares prove plentiful. Finn and Elijah return from their scouting with four squirrels and a rabbit.

They lunch on two of the squirrels. Finn finishes Elijah’s portion when he declares he is not hungry.

Elijah is quiet for most of the day. He reaches out to empty air often, reaching on instinct for someone who is not there. He stares into the distance when Finn mentions home, or their family. (He knows better than to mention Niklaus by name, though.)

If it is not distance from Niklaus that will break the spell, then it must take time. Mikael vows to keep Elijah away for as long as it takes.

.

Niklaus has always been Esther’s special child. She has watched him carefully, gifted him an enchanted necklace to temper the bloodlust he would inherit from his father.

He hums with an energy different to his siblings. Different to Freya and Kol, her children gifted with magic. Different to Ansel and his brethren, whose blood runs a curse through their veins.

Perhaps the mix of magic and the curse created something new in him. (Something Mikael must never know about.)

Ever since Mikael has taken Finn and Elijah away, that difference has become more pronounced.

The hum in his blood is louder, a thrumming in Esther’s ears. When she catches him sitting still, he nearly vibrates with restless energy.

_ Niklaus, are you all right? _

His head tilts to one side, golden hair falling in his eyes.  _ I will be. _

.

Four days in. Elijah seems tired. He has continued to eat little—a few bites of meat or dried fruit each day. Despite his fatigue, he still tosses and turns in the night, unable to sleep peacefully.

They fell a deer. Finn suggests they bring it home, but stops when he sees Mikael’s expression. He has no intent to return home until he’s satisfied that Elijah is free.

.

Ayana complains of her birds going missing. She and Esther combine their magic to perform a spell to locate them—to no avail. It’s as if they’ve disappeared from the face of the earth.

Niklaus volunteers to wash his own things in the stream. She lets him, grateful for the help.

.

They are running low on supplies. Finn observes—rightfully—that the game will spoil if not dried soon.

Mikael sends him back to the village with their kills. He stays with Elijah, who has begun to skip meals altogether. 

.

Niklaus runs to greet Finn excitedly, before realizing Elijah is not with him. Esther places a comforting hand on his shoulder.  _ He’ll be back soon. In a day or two. You’ll see. _

Later that day, Rebekah comes to tell her Henrik is crying at home and won’t stop.

_ What happened? _ she asks.

Rebekah shrugs.  _ I left him with Nik. When I came back, he was in floods. _

Henrik is a master of words by now. He speaks all day long, for the most part using words everyone can understand.

But none of Esther’s coaxing convinces him to tell her what upset him so badly.

.

_ Father, I don’t feel well. _ Elijah is pale. He hunches over on his pallet, after yet another sleepless night.

_ You should eat something, _ Finn scoffs.  _ It’s been two days. _

Elijah wrinkles his nose. He chews on a piece of dried meat, tossing it into the leaves unfinished after half a day.

He doesn’t sleep again that night.

Nor does Mikael. Niklaus glides into their camp again, eyes and skin shining like the wood  _ alves _ from the old world.

He lays one hand on Elijah’s forehead.  _ You thought he could escape me? You thought he would want to?  _ His voice envelops Mikael, whispering in both his ears like an enchantment.

_ He loves me. He only fears you. _

.

Niklaus is sprawled on his back, looking up at the sky.

_ It’s nearly suppertime, _ Esther calls to him. _ There’s deer or rabbit. Niklaus, _ she repeats when he does not answer.  _ What do you want? _

He doesn’t move.  _ I want my brother back. _

.

_ He’s burning up, Father, _ Finn announces.  _ Would it not be best to bring him home, so Mother can care for him? _

Mikael seethes.  _ Fight through it, Elijah. You are strong. _

He hopes.

.

Esther offers the little ones honey on their bread, as a treat.

Niklaus shakes his head, turning his sweet radiant smile on her.  _ Not for me, Mother. I’m saving mine. _

.

Nine days in the forest. Elijah has burned with a fever for nearly half of them. His voice scratches in his throat. He can barely stand.

Mikael swore to keep him away until Niklaus’s hold over him was broken.

_ It isn’t magic,  _ Niklaus sneers. He grows more impatient.

_ There is no spell to break. I will have him because he wants me,  _ Mikael _. _

Mikael shudders.

.

After ten days, Mikael finally relents. Esther does not need to lose another child. He and Finn hoist Elijah between them and carry him home.

.

Upon the hunting party’s return, Niklaus will not be torn from Elijah’s side. He holds his hand while Esther and Ayana treat him with herbs (and a few whispered spells). He holds Elijah’s head on his lap until he wakes.

When Elijah’s eyes open, he comes back to life. Color seems to return to his cheeks, the heaviness leaving his limbs. He reaches up to cradle his brother’s face while Niklaus holds him close, exclaiming softly but excitedly.

Niklaus feeds Elijah supper that evening, letting him lick drops of honey from his fingers after a meal of bread and fruit.

Esther catches him dozing upright late in the evening, Elijah’s head still on his lap.

_ Niklaus. _ She shakes him gently to wake him.  _ Are you all right, my love? _

His eyes are bleary, exhausted. There is a tangle of honey stuck in his hair. But he smiles, his blue eyes shining with contentment.  _ Yes, Mother. _

.

Mikael gnashes his teeth when he sees how readily the two boys snap back together. Elijah, so wearied by whatever fever overtook him in the forest, recovers quickly in the arms of his hungry-eyed brother.

Niklaus breathes Elijah in, holding him close as if to make up for all the lost days.

_ He made no trouble, _ Esther reassures him.  _ Although he missed his brother. _

.

Mikael is awakened in the night by harsh breathing close to his ear. He reaches instinctively for his knife, but it is not beside his pillow.

He opens his eyes to see Niklaus’s slender figure. Looming over him, staring at him with those cold, pale eyes.

_ Don’t you ever,  _ he snarls, _ take him away from me again. _

Mikael closes his eyes again and waits, through his pounding heart, for Niklaus to disappear. (He drank too much at the homecoming meal.)

When he wakes in the morning, his knife is still nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	8. Chapter 8

He stares too much.

_ He has your eyes, _ Esther points out.

Mikael can’t look at them. They are too pale, too cold. They don’t blink as much as they should.

His third son has only lived five winters, and Mikael is terrified of him.

When his eyes are not following Elijah, they are watching Mikael. Studying him, evaluating weaknesses. Mikael swears he can feel the weight of Niklaus’s gaze, even when his back is turned. Hairs prickle on the nape of his neck.

_ A warrior must always be on his guard. _ This is what Mikael’s father taught him, and what he teaches his sons.

Niklaus takes it to heart and sits up through the night, whittling stray sticks into sharpened points. Staring across the room, his gaze fixed on Mikael.

Mikael sleeps with one eye open, one hand on his knife.

_ Do a spell,  _ he entreats Esther.  _ Use your magic. Or have Ayana do it, if you cannot. _

_ Look inside that boy and pull out what’s wrong. _

His wife raises an eyebrow at him.  _ There is nothing wrong. You simply think he’s too soft. _

He is not  _ too soft _ , Mikael thinks. The boy is hardened beyond his years. His eyes have seen a thousand things too old for his little mind.

Even in his softest moments—always with Elijah—there is a callous determination to his actions. The way he takes Elijah’s chin in one hand, forcing the older boy’s attention on him and only him. The way he blinks his eyes to draw Elijah’s attention—those pale eyes, glittering with an unyielding resolve.

The way he speaks and arrests Elijah as though speaking directly into his soul. Voice whispering honey sweet from his pink smiling lips.

He’s soft, Mikael will concede. But soft in all the wrong ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	9. Chapter 9

You are born, and everything is dark—except for the one who holds you. He is made of light.

He is solemn and gentle and tender, but he shines for you, and you decide he is yours.

He worships you, adores you. His light seeps under your skin and fills you with a love you couldn’t imagine.

He is gentle. He treats you like the finest, most precious treasure.

You hold him close. Tightly, to the point of pain. You treat him like he is the sweetest, most delicious thing you will ever eat. You savor the taste of him.

He belongs to you.

He turns his head from you. You turn it back to face you again.

He must never look away.

He tells you he loves you with every touch, every look. You lap the words off his skin and still, still, it isn’t enough.

He trembles at your touch, and you smile.

You plead, and he is inside you.

You both die and are reborn.

He kills for you, and he cries.

You tear him open and drink from him until he faints.

When he wakes, his tears have stopped. He tells you he loves you, and you lick the words from his mouth.

His blood sings in your veins. You can never have enough.

There can never be enough of him for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	10. Chapter 10

The stream is deep here. If Elijah were to wade in, it would come up to his chest.

Niklaus removes his clothes—shirt and pants—and splashes in with abandon.

The water reaches his shoulders. His hair glitters with wet droplets.

“Lijah, come on. Get in.”

He darts back out of the water, streaming rivulets onto the ground—and onto Elijah.

His skin seems to glow in the sunlight. Elijah tries not to stare at his bare limbs, his shoulders, his chest, his stomach…

Niklaus causes something to stir inside Elijah. Something deep. Something without a name. (Something he’s too afraid to name.)

Sometimes he thinks Niklaus knows  _ exactly _ what he makes him feel.

“Get in,” he repeats, his eyes dancing playfully. A teasing smile tugs at his lips.

Elijah smiles and drops his head, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

His little brother’s lips look positively  _ delicious _ .

Niklaus takes his hand. Tugging him toward the stream.

Elijah follows, unresisting and compliant. (When Niklaus touches him, he loses all reason.)

Somehow his shirt and pants are off, and he is in the water with Niklaus.

He lets him tug him deep into the stream, submerging all but their heads.

Niklaus stares at him with wonder in his eyes. His fingers explore Elijah’s face, his cheeks, his jaw.

They slip into his mouth.

Elijah’s eyes roll back. He can hear Niklaus snickering.

When his eyes focus again, Niklaus is smiling. There’s a hint of greed in his eyes, in those perfect pink lips.

“Mine,” he breathes. “All mine.”

_ Gladly, _ Elijah would reply, if his mouth were not obstructed.

He will never admit his thoughts, his desires, for Niklaus. He will never admit how he longs to taste his lips. Will never admit the blemishes he wants to leave on his pale, perfect skin.

How he wants to devour his little brother.

Niklaus leaps suddenly, forcing Elijah to catch him in his arms. His bare skin presses  _ all over _ Elijah’s, and Elijah gasps in embarrassment. (Suddenly he’s grateful for the water.)

Niklaus laughs again, a beautiful sound full of mirth. His voice is far too childish and innocent for what he coos in Elijah’s ear. “The things you’ll  _ do _ to me.”

As if he knows the future.

Elijah throbs with anticipation. He can’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	11. Chapter 11

_ His eyes, _ Mikael insists to Esther.  _ His eyes aren’t right. They glow. I’ve seen them. _

Esther surveys him, unimpressed.  _ You are exhausted, my love. You’ve not been sleeping. You jolt awake in the night. Perhaps a sleeping draught to help? _

_ I do not need an enchantment, _ he spits. He needs to  _ deal  _ with Niklaus, his devil child.

It is some kind of magic, he knows.

Elijah is a man now, and no man in his right mind would allow his  _ brother _ to touch him in the ways Niklaus does. It isn’t right.

.

He grabs Niklaus by the hair and pins him to the wall.  _ Keep your hands off him. _

Niklaus smiles, unrepentant. There are no pretenses with this one. Without Esther around, without Elijah, there is no facade. No one to pretend for.  _ Isn’t he pretty, Father. Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted to touch him. _

Mikael hits him. Hits him until his hands bleed, until the boy should be unconscious.

No cry of pain crosses his lips. No tears wet his eyes, those too-bright eyes. He simply stares.

No matter what Mikael does, the boy will not be moved.

_ You cannot have him. You will not tear him away from us. _

Niklaus blinks through his swelling eye. He stares up at Mikael with cold, mocking pity.  _ Oh, Father. He’s already mine. _

Mikael can only imagine what he means by that.

_ You are a blight on this family. A stain. An abomination. _ He lands another blow, to no avail.

_ I will tell your mother, _ he hisses with increasing desperation.  _ I will tell everyone what you are.  _

Niklaus’s eyes remain cold and hard. A wicked smirk stretches across his blood-flecked lips. (He looks unhinged.)  _ It matters not. No one will believe you. No one ever does. _

When Esther and Elijah stumble across the scene, Esther demands to know the boy’s crime. Mikael cannot explain beyond  _ he spoke out of turn. _

Niklaus curls in on himself. He moans—a cry meant to attract pity.

_ This is far beyond punishment for speaking out of turn, _ Esther says dryly.  _ Come. I’ll make you a draught. Elijah, tend to your brother. _

_ Lijah, _ Niklaus whimpers. He lets out a sniffle—with his brother there, tears have finally begun to flow.

Elijah goes to him, gathers him in his arms. Niklaus positions himself on his brother’s lap—even though they are far too old for such things. His legs wind around Elijah’s waist.

As Esther leads Mikael away, he glances back to catch Niklaus’s smug smile, unseen by Elijah or Esther.

_ No one will believe you. No one ever does. _

Elijah wipes his tears away, lost in those shining blue eyes.

_ He’s already mine. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more art! [Check out my dear friend's drawings before you read!](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com/post/632524896511066112) While you're at it, check out her writing on AO3 too: [Aeruthin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeruthin/pseuds/Aeruthin)

Niklaus has always loved to wrestle. Ever since he was small, Elijah has let him win.

He straddles Elijah, pinning his arms on the ground above his head.

His little brother stares down at him lying on the grass, a captive to his weight, his hands.

Elijah is older. Stronger. He could break Niklaus’s hold, push away his slender limbs and free himself.

He doesn’t.

He’s content to lie underneath his brother, staring up at him. Seeing his full lips part in a smile. Catching a flash of his tongue as he licks his lips. Glimpsing his delicate collarbone peeking out of his shirt.

Niklaus leans down over Elijah, long golden hair tickling his cheeks. “Got you now.”

Elijah cannot form words to respond. This close, his brother’s beauty is dizzying. He’s lost in Niklaus’s golden haze.

He leans even closer, whispering just against Elijah’s mouth. (Elijah cannot breathe.) “Never going to let you go.”

And then his lips are on Elijah’s.

Elijah spasms. His mind goes blank with shock.

His hands move reactively, trying to reach for Niklaus (whether to push him away or pull him closer, Elijah could not say)—but his brother’s grip on his wrists has become rock solid, and Elijah cannot break it.

He cannot break the hold Niklaus has on him.

Amidst his panic, there is a part of Elijah that rejoices. His brother fills his mouth, numbing his throat and silencing his tongue. The feeling is intoxicating.

His brother is kissing him, and it’s the sweetest thing Elijah has ever tasted.

But— _ where _ did he learn to kiss like that?

He captures Elijah’s lips between his. Sucking on them, parting them, his breath hot and harsh inside Elijah’s mouth.

The  _ noises _ he makes. Elijah has never heard him sound more pleased.

A low moan escapes him.  _ I shouldn’t want this. _

“Brother.” The word is muffled. Elijah squirms, still pinned to the ground. Helpless. Trapped.

Niklaus pulls back, just a hair’s breadth. His eyes rake over Elijah’s face. Studying. Contemplating.

“You want me.” It isn’t a question.

Elijah’s lips are on fire. (Already he is hungry for more.)

“I…” Cannot say yes. Cannot say no.

Niklaus bites his lip, turning the pink perfect skin momentarily white. Elijah’s gaze darts between his lips, his eyes, his heaving chest…

He almost forgets what he’s trying to say.

Finally he settles on, “We shouldn’t  _ do _ this.”

There are children at home. Rebekah watches them constantly, Elijah knows, desperate to be a part of what they have. (He almost thinks Niklaus takes pleasure in pushing her away.)

Henrik is little more than a baby, all cheeks and eyes. (When Niklaus smiles at him, he comes close to tears.) And Kol cannot keep his mouth shut—if he knew of this, word of their transgressions would surely find Father’s ear.

And Niklaus—oh, his sweet little brother who begs for his hand, for a walk in the woods.

Who steals a look at Elijah when he bathes, steals a touch at night. Steals Elijah’s breath and smiles at his trembles.

“But you want it.”

Elijah has wanted him always. (Too much.)

He tries to find a way to argue, to save himself and his little brother. (He knows, deep down, they’re already doomed.) “You’re my  _ brother _ .”

Niklaus blinks, unfazed. “So what.”

“So we shouldn’t—”

“So stop me.” His eyes blaze—mischief and desire. “Push me off. Send me away.”

Elijah is intensely aware of his brother’s hands encircling his wrists. Pinning them on the ground above his head, leaving him defenseless and open.

He enjoys feeling so helpless.

Niklaus’s legs tighten around his torso. Waiting for Elijah’s response. (He already knows the answer.)

He doesn’t have the strength to push Niklaus away.

Elijah’s lips burn. They open like the beak of a hatchling bird, begging for food.

He quite literally cannot deny Niklaus what he wants. He never has.

Even when what he wants shoots dread down Elijah’s spine.

He craves the taste of his brother’s lips on his.

Niklaus senses his victory. He smiles with cold satisfaction. “Then no more questions.” He leans down, covering Elijah’s mouth once again.

Any protests Elijah has slide silent down his little brother’s throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	13. Chapter 13

Niklaus looks beautiful covered in blood.

He is positively drenched in it; the amount is obscene.

He removes his shirt, revealing the bare, clean skin underneath. It glows pearly white in the dark.

As Elijah watches, blood drips from his hair, trailing down his shoulders and chest.

(How Father could have called him an abomination is beyond Elijah. He is undead now, and a killer—and more beautiful than ever.)

“Forgive me for the blood, brother,” he murmurs, sounding anything but sorry. He sits on Elijah’s legs. Tangles his bloodied hands in Elijah’s hair.

The violence has made him hard.

Elijah shivers with anticipation under his little brother. With Niklaus in his arms, Elijah can scarcely think anything beyond  _ want _ .

Niklaus kisses blood into his mouth, leaving his lips smeared with red.

Elijah should be screaming. The singing inside him drowns it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More art! [It is absolutely precious, go give it some love.](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com/post/633316667485749248)

Elijah’s first murder is full of tears and pleading. (Not from the woman he kills; terror has robbed her of her voice.)

The tears are his.  _ Please, brother, don’t make me do this. _

.

He has managed to fight the bloodlust so far. Rebekah has torn through a man with her teeth, while Kol reassembled the limbs of the man who had cut himself with a knife at the wrong second.

Niklaus of course delights in his new power. He begs Elijah to let loose, to feel the full extent of his new strength, his new appetite.

This time begging is not enough for Elijah.

Niklaus takes more drastic measures.

.

“Niklaus, what are you doing?”

“I’m helping you. I want you to do this for me.”

His arm is wound around her shoulders, holding her neck close to his teeth. His other hand holds her wrist—he holds it out to Elijah, moving her arm like a puppet.

Elijah wants nothing more than to obey. When his brother speaks, there’s little he can do to resist.

But this time all he can think is  _ Not her. _

She has a child, Elijah knows, and no husband. She has a sweet smile and a laugh that rivals Niklaus’s.

She is the only woman Elijah has looked at who hasn’t run away.

Niklaus bites into her neck. Blood begins to flow, slow and sensuous. Elijah tenses.

Niklaus holds her out to him. “Go on, brother.” His tongue sweeps over her wound teasingly. Eyes dancing merrily.

“Niklaus, I cannot.”

His feet shuffle, trying—needing—to lunge for her in spite of himself.

Her breaths are short and sharp—pained. Frightened.

“Please, not—”  _ Not her. _

Her heartbeat pounds in his ears. Her blood flows warm and wet and loud.

“Come on, Lijah.” Niklaus takes on a teasing tone, pleading, wheedling like they are children playing a silly game.

He steps forward and takes Elijah’s hand, leaning in close, so close, that his breath warms Elijah’s lips. “ _ Come on, _ ” he whispers in a voice like silk. “Closer.”

Elijah’s mouth opens on instinct. As he leans in to close the space between them, Niklaus takes a step back.

Elijah feels his lips twist in anguish. He takes a step forward, following his brother with desperation in his mouth.

Right where Niklaus wants him.

With one hand he reels Elijah in, and with the other he pulls her up to meet him.

Her blood pulses in his ears, on his tongue.

Her dark eyes are on him unblinkingly. Her stare cuts to his heart.

In another life, she might have loved him.

In this one…

He is so, so hungry.

He bites into her neck, into the wounds Niklaus has made. She cries out, tugging feebly at his arms as he locks her neck into place.

Niklaus whispers into his hair as he drinks. “That’s it, brother. Give in.”

He hardly feels her go limp, as the life leaves her.

.

Elijah sits holding his kill. Blood stains his mouth, his chin, his front. His limbs are wooden. Frozen with horror.

“Lijah,” Niklaus croons. He kneels down beside him, placing a hand on his neck. “You did well.” He pries Elijah’s fingers from her body, casting her aside.

Tears flow down Elijah’s cheeks, mixing with the blood. “What have you done to me, Niklaus.”

His brother has made him a murderer.

“Hush.” Niklaus takes Elijah’s face in his hands.

Elijah leans into his touch in spite of himself.

“It was easy, wasn’t it.”

It makes Elijah feel sick, how easy it was. To tear into her, to sink his new, sharp teeth into her throat and take the life from her.

“You’re strong now. You can have anything you want.”

A sob chokes his reply. “I don’t want  _ this _ .”

What he wants is to not feel sick. What he wants is to wash the blood from his hands. What he wants is to not be a killer.

“You want  _ me _ .” Niklaus licks blood from the corner of Elijah’s mouth. (Elijah cannot deny it.)

He whispers against his lips. “You want what I want.”

(They are entwined; they are one. Now they are bound by bloodshed.)

Elijah closes his eyes against the hot tears.

Niklaus presses his lips against his trembling eyelids. “It gets better. Every time, it gets better.”

Elijah’s eyes snap up fearfully. Surely his brother does not intend to make him kill  _ again _ .

His stomach turns, because he would do it.

He would do anything to make Niklaus smile.

Niklaus runs his thumb across Elijah’s chin, collecting the blood that has gathered there. With the same thumb, he parts Elijah’s lips and slips his bloodstained fingertips inside.

Elijah’s tongue rushes to him on instinct. When he tastes the blood, he feels the familiar burning rush as his eyes pool with red.

Niklaus smiles. “Look at you,” he murmurs in that melodic, hypnotic way he has. “Beautiful.”

He runs his tongue over Elijah’s bloody throat—now their eyes match.

A noise halfway between a laugh and a sob tears through Elijah’s throat. He’s dizzy and breathless—not because he is a killer, but because his brother approves.

Niklaus leans forward until their foreheads meet. “No more tears. Don’t spoil the night for me.”

His lips find Elijah’s. Elijah’s tears do not stop.

.

Niklaus takes him to bed. He kisses the tears from Elijah’s cheeks and breathes reassurances into his mouth.

Elijah lets him remove their clothes and have his way. (He always gets his way. Elijah will see to it.)

He’s gentle. The motion of his hips is softer, less forceful than usual.

His passion has already been spent tonight. This, Elijah tells himself, is an act of love.

He holds Elijah’s hand against the soft, soft skin of his back. Elijah’s mind buzzes, empty but for the ecstasy only Niklaus can put in him.

“I don’t want to kill,” he tries to say.

But what comes out of his mouth is: “I’ll do better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	15. Chapter 15

Rebekah gasps when she sees Elijah changing his shirt. “Lijah, what  _ happened _ to you?”

Bruises pepper his neck, his shoulders, his hips. Small, but dark. Intense. Fresh.

Niklaus’s gaze snaps to her at the use of  _ his _ name for Elijah.

Elijah hurries to put on his new shirt, hiding the marks.

“Were you in a fight?” Rebekah’s concern pitches her voice high. Elijah’s not the one to get in fights. That would be Kol—or Nik.

Elijah will not meet her eyes. “Something like that.”

His lip is swollen too, she notices.

She cannot stop herself from asking, “Did you win?”

“Not quite, Bekah,” Nik interjects. His hand creeps around Elijah’s throat to finger one bruise, still visible above his collar. “He was bested. In fact, I’d say he was  _ torn to pieces _ .”

Nik’s smile is positively gleeful.

“Niklaus, please.”

“What? You were practically  _ begging  _ for mercy.”

Rebekah wonders what manner of fight would have Elijah plead for mercy while Nik stood by and let him be beaten.

“Brother…”

“You know I love when you lose control. That helpless look in your eyes.”

Elijah ducks his head as color rushes to his cheeks.

Rebekah leaves them to their playful quarrel. There’s no stopping Nik when he wants Elijah’s attention. As usual, they seem to be speaking a language she does not understand.

“That wrinkle in your brow. Let me smooth it out.”

“Niklaus.”

“Just one kiss.”

“Later. She’ll  _ see _ .”

“No, now. You’re too pretty to look so worried.”

Rebekah turns around long enough to see Niklaus embracing Elijah from behind, with his hands inside Elijah’s shirt. He drops a kiss on Elijah’s cheek, letting his lips linger there.

Elijah’s eyes are closed, his brow indeed wrinkled in some worry or conflict.

Niklaus catches her staring. “Eyes forward, little sister.” His hand curls around Elijah’s jaw possessively.

She hurries on her way.

“Going to kiss you now.”

“Nikla—”

(She does not understand.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	16. Chapter 16

“I know what you wished for.”

Elijah turns into a statue.

Niklaus surveys him, a half-formed laugh on his lips. He’s been giggling since he pulled Elijah by the hand into the woods. Away from the bonfire, away from other people.

Of course Elijah wished for good hunting, for a bountiful harvest in the new year, for survival in the winter.

But the wish Niklaus speaks of…

He slipped it in secretly, silently. He would never speak it aloud, never write it where another soul could see.

“Niklaus…”

“Go on.” He nudges himself against Elijah’s knee.

Elijah is trembling.

Niklaus smiles. His teeth glint in the dark. “Touch me.”

Elijah’s fingers twitch involuntarily. A quiet whimper escapes his lips.

Oh, the times he has  _ imagined _ it…

Did Niklaus know, somehow? See it in his eyes? Hear his thoughts?

“I know you want to. I  _ want  _ you to.”

He guides Elijah’s hand to rest on the bulge in his pants. Elijah’s heart pounds. He can feel his brother’s growing excitement—figuratively and literally.

With his free hand, he grasps the side of Niklaus’s neck. Holding him like the precious thing he is.

Niklaus pulls him closer. Their bodies press warm together.

“Don’t be afraid.”

He hisses the next words delightedly in Elijah’s ear. “Take me away.”

(He always treats it like a game. How little it takes to arouse Elijah—and to satisfy him.  _ You’re so easy, Lijah. I’ve hardly lifted a finger. _ )

Elijah’s hand wanders up to Niklaus’s waist, caressing bare skin.

Into his pants.

The effect is instantaneous. They gasp at the same time.

Niklaus throws his head back against the tree. His lips form a delicate O as he pants upward to the heavens.

“More.”

For once the word is not commanding. Not a demand. A soft, cracked, pleading wish from his little brother.

As always, Elijah obliges him.

Niklaus keens with pleasure. His fists clench and unclench as Elijah works on him.

“Lijah,” he gasps.  _ “More.” _

His pale eyes have darkened, no longer shining out in the faint, distant firelight. His pupils are swollen, nearly engulfing the bright blue entirely.

Elijah’s breaths come sharp and heavy. Every movement of his fingers coaxes moans and hissed obscenities from his little brother’s lips.

Elijah drinks in his every sweet noise.

For once, Niklaus is at  _ his _ mercy. At his fingertips.

His lips explore his brother’s throat, his collarbones.

Niklaus grabs his hair, clenching his fist as a great gasping shudder runs through his whole body.

He finishes with Elijah’s name on his lips.

His head falls back against the tree trunk. He sighs blissfully.

Elijah’s head falls too, falls forward to rest on his brother’s shoulder. Their breaths mix together, heavy and loud. Despite the chill in the air, a sheen of sweat has formed across Elijah’s brow—more from his nerves than exertion. He can feel heat pulsing from Niklaus, too.

“I—” Niklaus pants. “I saw all the stars in the heavens, brother.”

Elijah flushes and smiles against his skin. Numerous times his brother has reduced him to a quivering, wordless heap with his hands. He feels a strange sense of pride at being able to return the favor.

“If only Father could see us now.” Niklaus giggles gleefully at the thought.

Elijah, on the other hand, is struck through with guilt. He lifts his head to look Niklaus in the eye. His brother’s expression is positively radiant. He shines in the dim, distant firelight like a creature from another world.

Elijah made him look like that. Elijah put that rapturous expression on his face.

Yet his high of excitement is quickly drowning in a flood of guilt. He gave in to his selfish desires and—

What kind of abomination does that make him?

Niklaus catches Elijah by the hand as Elijah rears back, propelled by shame. “Stay. Stay with me.”

“I should—” Elijah’s breath shudders. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Niklaus tucks a lock of hair behind Elijah’s ear. (His touch sets Elijah on fire.) “You shouldn’t have done a lot of things, brother. But tell me you didn’t enjoy them.” He smiles sweetly, softly. (No one could guess what lies behind that innocent expression.)

His thumb strokes Elijah’s cheek. Elijah feels blood rush to his face underneath his brother’s fingers.

Niklaus could rule kingdoms with the magic of his touch.

“You’re blushing.” Niklaus lifts his other hand to cradle Elijah’s face between his palms. “I love it when you blush.”

More heat rushes to Elijah’s face. To be the object of his brother’s affections is his greatest joy.

Niklaus kisses him. Slow and chaste at first, but he quickly grows urgent. (Indecent.)

His hand locks at the back of Elijah’s neck, pulling them closer together. His teeth scrape against Elijah’s tongue, filling Elijah’s mouth with his sweet, indescribable taste.

Elijah gasps for breath, his head spinning—he feels drunk. Niklaus intoxicates him.

His world clouds, all sound fading, sight blurring. The only thing he knows is Niklaus.

Elijah can hear the smile in his brother’s voice as Niklaus whispers in his ear. “Tell me you didn’t enjoy  _ that _ .”

His lips are wet against Elijah’s skin. The tip of his tongue teases the soft folds of Elijah’s ear.

Elijah can scarcely form a reply. “So…so much.”

Niklaus laughs. A chorus of joy roars in Elijah’s chest.

One more kiss, on the edge of his jaw. “Then tell me all your wishes, brother.” Elijah feels one hand snake down his chest, across his stomach, to the waist of his own pants. “I’ll make them all come true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	17. Chapter 17

Elijah has been missing for days.

The bandits swept through the village like wild men, stealing or burning everything in their path.

When they fled, Elijah was nowhere to be found.

Rebekah has never found Niklaus more frightening.

He and Father, always at odds, appear to have put aside their quarrels briefly and united in search of Elijah.

_ The vermin can’t have gotten far, _ Father says.  _ No doubt an offshoot of those animals you call neighbors. _

Nik glares at him with murder in his eyes but says nothing in return.

Elijah is not the only one missing. The whole village has mobilized in pursuit of the men who have upended their homes and taken their belongings and loved ones.

In the end, another search party is the one to find the bandits supping in the woods, drunk on their victory. Two of them are killed in the struggle; the other three are brought back to face justice.

Elijah is returned home to Mother’s open arms. Aside from chafing on his wrists and ankles, he is shaken but unharmed.

His first words are to ask for Niklaus.

Rebekah hugs him tightly before leaving to fetch their brother, knowing she won’t get a chance after they are reunited.

(He kisses her on the cheek in return, before meeting her eyes earnestly.  _ Niklaus, _ he repeats, his tone more urgent than before.)

Nik, to his credit, is nothing but gentle. He holds Elijah’s face in his hands, kisses his bruised wrists, and lets Elijah’s head rest in his lap as he falls asleep.

His eyes still blaze with some unspoken emotion. Not for the first time, Rebekah wonders what he is planning.

She doesn’t have to wait long to find out.

He sneaks out that night, lowering Elijah onto his side without waking him.

Rebekah follows.

(She shouldn’t. But she does.)

He first brings the hounds into the woods, tying them to a tree stump.

Then he returns to the hovel where the three surviving bandits have been bound and gagged for the night.

He drags them out to the forest one by one. Rebekah watches in horrified fascination as he slits their throats—strangely gently, it seems—and lets the hounds lap up the blood.

The men choke and convulse as Nik lets his knife caress their throats. He watches them struggle and go still under the hounds’ tongues.

The expression on his face is enraptured and otherworldly. He studies each of the men as they take their dying breaths.

Rebekah does not move. She doesn’t think she can, until Nik straightens and turns in her direction.

He seems to glow in the moonlight. His face and neck are speckled with blood.

Their eyes meet.

She snaps into action, stumbling to her feet away from the bloody scene. 

But before she makes it home, he is there in front of her, blocking her path.

He holds his knife loosely in one hand. Blood shines dark on the blade, reflecting the pale moonlight.

Her heart pounds so fiercely she swears her bones rattle.

“Nik…”

His expression is calm. “I know you won’t say anything, Bekah. I’m not worried.”

She watches his blade with bated breath.

He sighs, eyes rolling to the heavens. “Honestly, Bekah. I’m not going to hurt you.”

After watching him wield the blade with deadly ease, she cannot be persuaded so easily.

“Come walk with me,” he says casually. He turns and walks away swinging his knife at his side.

(She hates how her heart still leaps at his invitation, at the chance to be by his side.)

She follows, trailing a little behind him. Enough to keep all of him in her sight. Her heart thuds with every step she takes.

“Why?” she asks him as he washes away the blood in the stream.

He pauses, one dripping hand against his cheek.

He glares at Rebekah, eyes cold and determined. “You know why.”

“I know—Elijah. But—”

“They can’t have him. He’s  _ mine _ .” His fingers clench into a fist.

“No,” she says, before her courage runs out. “Why like this? Why not just kill them where they were?”

This question truly gives him pause. His brow wrinkles—concentration? Confusion? “I… _ can’t _ . I can’t do it alone. It can’t be me.”

He scrubs away drops of red from his forehead. “Not yet, anyway.”

Rebekah helps him rinse blood off a tangled strand of hair.

(She should be afraid of him, and she is. But not as much as she should be.)

They bring the hounds back together, letting them drink from the stream to clean their bloody muzzles.

“They’ll find the bodies,” she says breathlessly.

Nik shrugs. “They won’t know who is responsible. Besides, they were going to die anyway.”

His cold dismissal of their lives makes her shiver.

He notices. (Of course he does.) A smile breaks across his lips. “They deserved death, sister. I simply wanted to gift them that.”

He runs a knuckle over her cheek. “Come on, Bekah. Our brother needs a loving touch.”

_ Monster, _ she wants to say to him. She doesn’t.

“It’s all right—I know you like to watch.”

In spite of the churning in her stomach, she does.

Elijah is curled on his side in an uneasy sleep. He shakes and flinches at some tumultuous dream.

Nik sits at his back and leans over his shoulder, cupping his cheek in a gesture too tender for his murderous hands.  _ Lijah, _ he murmurs.  _ Wake up.  _

Elijah stirs sleepily, too dazed to properly respond.

Niklaus leans down and moves his lips along Elijah’s jaw—until his mouth is inside Elijah’s.

Rebekah has caught glimpses of them before, of course—for years they’ve done this.

(When first she saw them, she didn’t understand. She once tried it with Kol—he cursed in surprise and shoved her away.  _ Why would you do that, Bex? _ )

This kiss is not for her benefit. He doesn’t hold her gaze, doesn’t smirk in her direction.

He kisses Elijah awake. Rebekah watches him come to life under Nik’s hands.

He shifts to his back, letting Nik rest his weight on top of him. One hand tangles in Nik’s hair. His leg winds around Nik’s waist.

Soft noises escape both of them in between kisses. Rebekah drinks them in, basking in their bliss secondhand.

She wonders if Elijah knows. Knows why his sleeves are damp. If he knows what Nik has just washed out of his hair. If he has seen the look on Nik’s face after he draws blood.

She wonders if Elijah would care—or if he would want to run.

She wonders if Niklaus would let him.

She won’t find out tonight.

She slips two fingers under her skirt and lets their moans carry her away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	18. Chapter 18

Mikael catches them eventually.

.

His boys are young men now. They ought to be courting women. Looking for wives.

Instead his two middle sons hide behind a tree. Joined below the waist.

It is so much worse than Mikael has feared.

He shoves Niklaus into the ground so hard his head cracks upon impact.

(He could stay there forever, for all Mikael cares. Injured. Dead. At least he wouldn’t be Mikael’s problem anymore.)

Mikael’s hand is around Elijah’s throat, pinning him to the tree. (The same tree, he tries not to think, Niklaus gasped into, with Elijah behind him—)

_ The next time he so much as touches you,  _ Mikael snarls,  _ I will kill him. I swear it to the gods. _

Elijah is flushed, lips shiny and swollen. His breath comes in sharp pants. He looks down at his hands in bewilderment, as if he is unsure what to do with them empty.

_ What has he done to you, _ Mikael wonders disgustedly.

_ Nothing, _ Niklaus breathes from the ground—not dead, unfortunately. He spits a dark glob onto the ground and smiles through bloody teeth.  _ And everything. _

.

.

.

Henrik dies.

Mikael is furious. Esther is heartbroken.

Niklaus glares at Elijah, while Elijah stares in horror.

Horror, because their baby brother’s chest is shredded open. But horror—because Niklaus has never looked at him like that.

_ He only came because you wouldn’t. _

“Lijah, come.”

“I cannot. Father has asked me…”

“I want to see the wolves. I want you with me.”

“I want to. But, Niklaus…” He knows. He knows, and he is not powerless against us.

“‘But Father.’ I heard you.”

_ He died for that. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	19. Chapter 19

On the night of the full moon, Henrik sneaks out with Nik to see the wolves transform.

It isn’t exactly his choice.

Nik grabs him by the arm and hauls him to his feet.  _ How brave are you, little brother? _

Niklaus has always frightened Henrik. He’s nothing like their other siblings. Not loving like Rebekah, or Elijah. Not indulgent or funny, like Kol. He doesn’t even act like a parent, as Finn does.

Nik…Nik looks at Henrik like he’s a tool in the market. Sizing him up, weighing whether or not to buy him. Whether or not he would be useful enough.

He has never struck Henrik, or acted outright cruel to him. There is simply an air about him, a feeling that Henrik ought not cross Nik, ought not get too close.

He cannot even look into his eyes too long; Nik’s gaze sends chills down his spine.

Once, when he was feeling bold, he asked:  _ What are you looking at? _

Nik tilted his head to one side.  _ Just deciding whether or not to eat you. _

He was probably joking, Henrik tells himself. Probably. A common jest meant to tease younger children. Mother has said as much before— _ I could eat you for dinner, little one. _

But he can’t be sure. The cold way he speaks, the way he holds himself—Henrik can imagine Nik doing anything.

That’s why he bites back his protests when Nik pulls him to his feet. Inspecting him, sizing him up.  _ How brave, little brother? _

He squares his shoulders.  _ Brave enough. _

_ You’re coming outside with me. As soon as it’s dark, we’re going to see the wolves. _

Henrik swallows the fear pounding in his chest and nods solemnly. It’s not a good idea to argue with Nik on the best of days.

And Nik has been far from calm of late.

Henrik can only guess exactly why—the intricacies have been kept from him, the youngest. There was a fight, he knows, between Father and Niklaus—a massive one. Mother got involved, which she rarely does. Elijah has all but disappeared. All his siblings can barely look at each other now.

Even Henrik’s friends in the village seem to know more about this than he. They stare at him while whispering behind their hands.

Nik’s behavior has become unpredictable and unsettling. Instead of his usual icy calm, he is bristly and on edge. The one time Henrik approaches him, he hisses a rejection that borders on a threat.  _ (Hold your tongue, if you want to keep it. Leave.) _

_ What’s wrong with him?  _ he asks Bekah, who understands Nik better than anyone but Elijah.

Rebekah strokes Henrik’s hair, her gaze never leaving Nik.  _ He’s lonely. Father sent Elijah away on a scouting trip. _

Kol scoffs from where he lounges nearby.  _ More like he forbade them from seeing each other. _

_ Why? _ Henrik asks, ears perking up. He’s desperate for any scrap of news, any explanation for what has torn a hole in his family.

A wicked smile grows on Kol’s face.  _ No one’s told you yet? Father caught them  _ f—

_ Kol.  _ Rebekah’s tone is suddenly harsh, her grip on Henrik’s shoulder hardening to iron.  _ Stop it. _

Henrik’s gaze darts between them.  _ No, why would Father forbid them? What did they do? _

_ Nothing. _ She articulates each syllable clearly at Kol as he struts away, still smirking.

She smiles down at Henrik, although her expression is far from reassuring.  _ It’s all right. Father’s just cross. Kol is just being childish. _

She won’t explain any further, no matter what he asks her. (Sometimes he hates being the youngest.)

So he still doesn’t understand why Nik’s eyes blaze with anger as he all but drags Henrik outside. Why his grip is rock hard, why his jaw clenches and turns his expression to stone.

Elijah has returned—Henrik even saw them speak earlier before they descended into the safety of the caves.

So where does his rage come from?

_ Why me, Nik? Why are you bringing me along? Why not Elijah? Why not Bekah? _

Niklaus jerks to a stop, chest heaving. He turns and looks down at Henrik. His lips twist with something like disdain.

_ Elijah wouldn’t come,  _ he explains tightly.  _ I don’t want any of the others. _

_ Why am I here? _

_ I want you to see the wolves, little brother. I want you to feel the rush of danger. I want you to prove you’re braver than Elijah. _

They are outside by now, and dusk is truly falling. Nighttime sounds are loud in Henrik’s ears. The village is deserted.

Niklaus turns to him, eyes burning through an otherwise blank and calm expression.

Perhaps Henrik is imagining how his skin glows in the moonlight.

_ We’ll have to climb a tree. The wolves are vicious when they turn. _

The tree Nik chooses has slim, delicate branches. Henrik must test each of them before letting his weight rest on a new place.

Niklaus darts ahead of him, quicker and more nimble in his movements.

A loud, animal whine stretches out through the forest. Henrik’s palms begin to sweat. His limbs tremble with every movement.

_ Nik. Nik, wait up. _

His older brother pauses, staring down at him with pale, haughty eyes. He lounges lithely across two branches, seemingly without any effort—almost lazily.

_ Suppose we’re high enough. They’ll see us no matter how far we climb. _

Henrik pants as he hauls himself up, level with Nik.  _ Now what? _

Niklaus tilts his head up to the full moon in the sky.  _ Now we wait. _

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls.

Henrik lets the night air cool his sweaty face. Sneaks a peek at Niklaus. Watches him fume as he drinks in the moonlight. 

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from for him to blurt,  _ What happened between you and Father? _

Nik’s reply is clipped.  _ He saw something he shouldn’t have. _

_ You and…Elijah? _ He can’t imagine their crime.

_ Elijah still fears him. More than I thought. _

_ Is that why he wouldn’t come tonight? Father wouldn’t let him? _

_ He should have been here. I wanted to share this with him. _

_ I’m sorry, Nik. _ (Somehow, he is. Despite everything, he feels for his most unknowable brother.)

_ Me too. _ He almost smiles.

Henrik almost relaxes.

Then Niklaus shakes his long hair out of his face.  _ Tell me, little brother, have you ever loved someone? _

_ Of course. Mother. Rebekah. Finn, Kol, Elijah…you.  _ He tacks the last word on hastily. (He already knows he must not mention Father.)

_ Not…no.  _ He exhales sharply.  _ Have you ever loved someone with everything you are? _

The moon seems to grow bigger in the sky. Closer. Brighter. Nik cannot seem to keep his eyes off it.

_ Have you ever felt love for someone that burns you from the inside out? Makes you hungry for them? _

_ You want to own them—devour them. Your skin doesn’t feel right unless it’s touching theirs. That love is the only thing that keeps you feeling human. _

Henrik can say, with certainty, he has never felt anything like that in his fourteen years.  _ I… _

The woods come alive with howls. Henrik grips the tree even tighter.

Niklaus does not react to the cue in the slightest. His eyes are wild. Crazed.  _ Have you ever felt a love you’d do anything for? Bleed for? Hurt? Kill? _

He growls, driving his forehead into the trunk of the tree.  _ What do I have to do? How do I make him listen? I can’t feel like this anymore. How do you do it? How can you stand it? _

Henrik is frozen. He isn’t sure Niklaus is speaking to him anymore.

_ I did everything. Why isn’t he mine? _

_ You mean Elijah.  _ His voice shakes as he offers their older brother’s name. What little he understands of Nik’s ramblings, he knows it has to do with Elijah.

_ I want him beside me. I need him here. You, little brother,  _ he snarls,  _ are no substitute. _

_ I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what to do. _

His eyebrows raise.  _ Convince him he was wrong to stay behind tonight. _

_ How do I do that? _

_ You can’t. _

Henrik’s heart pounds under his ribs.  _ Nik, let’s go. We’ll go home. You just need to talk to him. He’ll listen. He loves you, I know he does. _

_ We can’t go home _ , he says, smoothly cutting across Henrik’s babbling. _ They’re here. _

Wolves have caught their scent. Running through the forest, the pack stops under the tree they’ve taken refuge in.

They growl and bark and claw at the tree trunk. They leap in the air, trying to reach the two humans, whose legs hang tantalizingly low.

One catches Henrik’s boot.

There’s no pain, not yet. He knows he will feel it later, when they get home to Mother.

(If they get home to Mother.)

He starts to slip from the tree. He hugs the branch desperately, begging Nik to pull him up.  _ Please. Please help me. _

Niklaus surveys him with a blank face. Says nothing. Does nothing.

It occurs to him, just before. What Nik might be thinking under that cold, angry stare.

_ This will convince him. _

Henrik’s fingers give out.

He feels a rush of panic as he falls, the night air whipping past him. (He knows it’s going to hurt.)

Nik’s empty expression shrinks into darkness. It’s the last thing he sees before he hits the ground.

After that, nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	20. Chapter 20

Elijah is running.

He cannot know when he’ll return. If he’ll return—or if he’ll ever even stop running.

His legs grow leaden far too quickly.

He cannot run too far. Already his heart screams at him to turn around, to run back to Niklaus.

He should not want to.

In the days since Henrik died, Niklaus has shown no grief. No guilt.

Elijah had to ask.

_ Did you do this, brother?  _

He raised an eyebrow.  _ I’m no animal, Lijah. _

_ Did you let it happen? Did you stand by as they tore him apart? Answer me, Niklaus! _

He wet his lips. (He doesn’t look the least bit chagrined.)

Anger and hurt and fear flooded Elijah at this unspoken confession— _ he really had, he’d killed their little brother. _

And so he ran. Niklaus did not chase after him.

He collapses beneath a tree. Niklaus, his brother, whom he has loved all his life, whom he has given everything to, has let their baby brother die. On purpose.

It feels as if someone has thrown a rock at his stomach. He cannot breathe.

His eyes overflow with tears, blurring his vision.

Everything he knows has been upended by this revelation. What else has his brother done, unbeknownst to him?

Perhaps hours pass, or mere minutes, before Niklaus comes to him. His steps are sure and steady—no searching was required to find him.

“Leave me.” Elijah buries his face in his knees like a child. There is nothing Niklaus can say that will erase or rectify what he’s done.

Niklaus does not obey. He steps closer, settling on his knees in front of Elijah.

A hand threads gently through Elijah’s hair—too gently. He is too tender.

The hand moves down his head, across his cheek, down to his jaw, where it guides Elijah’s gaze upward.

“Look at me.”

Elijah does.

(He’s beautiful.)

“You love me.” No question—it’s almost a command.

“Yes.” There is no denying it. “But—”

“But nothing. That is all that matters.”

Elijah cannot look away from his lips, his tongue. (How he longs to taste them.)

But—

_ My brother is a murderer. _

His eyes sparkle. Not with remorse, or even sympathy—only desire.

Elijah’s fingertips throb. He wants to hold him so badly.

“You killed him.”

“He died. I did nothing.”

“And you don’t  _ care _ .”

“I care for you.”

Warmth floods him. He tries to shove it down, and fails.

“You think I can just forget?”

“I know you can.” He runs his thumb over Elijah’s bottom lip. “My brother.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” (He can. He is already starting to.)

“You don’t need to remember. You don’t need to know anything except me.”

“You would kill him—let him die. Who else would you kill?”

“Anyone who comes between me and you, brother.” His voice is flat and inflectionless, merely stating facts.

Elijah’s eyes fill with tears again. “Let me go.” (He makes no move to pull away. Niklaus tethers him with a single touch.)

“No. You don’t want to leave. You know you belong with me.”

“I don’t.” (He does know.) “I  _ shouldn’t _ .” Nothing feels right unless they are together.

“Come home with me. You’ll forget everything. All your worries, gone.”

“No. Father. He swore—”

“His grief will keep him away. We have nothing to fear. After all, they know now. Mother, Finn, Kol. No more secrets. Think of it—no more hiding.”

He thumbs away Elijah’s tears. “Even when you’re crying, you are beautiful.”

_ Beautiful. _ Bold words from the boy who shines from the inside out.

There is no erasing what Niklaus has done—it simply  _ is _ .

“My brother.”

“Yes.”

Elijah takes his face in his hands. (He doesn’t look real. His beauty is blinding.)

He cannot forget. He cannot accept it.

(But what choice does he have.)

Something in those blue eyes recognize victory. He smiles. “You love me.”

“Yes. I do.” (Nothing else matters.)

.

Elijah takes his brother’s hands. Lets Niklaus lead him home. Lets him dry his tears.

His smile is sweet. Elijah can pretend they are still children, their brother is still alive, and they are young, just beginning to explore their love.

“Kiss me.”

Elijah doesn’t need to be told twice.

How he has missed the taste of his brother’s lips. How he has missed his hands, spreading fiery pleasure wherever he touches.

(Those hands killed Henrik.) They slip under his shirt, up his chest. Caress his bare skin before pulling his shirt off entirely.

(Those fingers are murderous.) They tangle in the hair at his navel. Draw playful circles around his nipples. Slip into Elijah’s mouth before entering him gently, oh so gently.

He is both gentle and ravenously hungry.

Niklaus envelops him, his limbs stretching out over Elijah’s. Their hands entwine; his legs lie on top of Elijah’s, mirroring his position.

His breath is sharp and sweet in Elijah’s ear. Bare skin presses hot on bare skin—they both begin to sweat.

_ My brother is a murderer. _

_ My brother loves me. _

_ Which matters more? _

Niklaus pants. His ragged breaths almost sound like growls. (Is this anything like what Henrik heard in his last moments? Viciousness, instead of tenderness?)

“Never leave me again,” he breathes against Elijah’s neck.

Elijah turns his head to kiss him.  _ Never. _

After all, who would be next to die?

.

Late in the night, Elijah’s grief and horror have dulled to a faint hum. Niklaus, naked beside him, is bathed in moonlight.

He croons in Elijah’s ear. “Tell me again.”

“I love you.” (Nothing is truer or more certain.)

He smiles against Elijah’s skin. “Good.”

They rise in search of food and drink. (They are, after all, still human.)

Mother has left meat and red wine for them.

After they have eaten, they return to bed. Elijah falls asleep again in Niklaus’s embrace.

(That is how Mikael finds them. He drives his sword through both their hearts with one stroke, hoping to dispose of them before they have drunk the bloodied wine. It’s the most merciful fate for both of them, he thinks.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	21. Chapter 21

They carve their names in the cave. Rebekah does her own, although Father has forbidden her to use a blade.

Niklaus scratches his name so the letters artfully entwine with Elijah’s.

.

“I’ll be gentle,” Niklaus promises. He runs the flat of his blade down Elijah’s cheek.

Elijah’s heart beats into his throat. His legs twitch, as if trying to run away.

But his brother’s sweet gaze pins him down. He nods and relents.

Niklaus’s smile shines like the sun.

Elijah lies on his side, holding a blanket to his chest like a child. He bites into the cloth when the pain flares.

The knife is sharp, and Niklaus is skilled. With the blade he opens shallow cuts, a series of small, interconnected slices up Elijah’s hip.

Every touch, every cut, is full of tenderness. Niklaus strokes his bare skin comfortingly each time Elijah flinches or hisses in pain.

He cleans away the welling blood with his tongue.

“Easy, brother,” he breathes into Elijah’s hair. “I would never hurt you.”

Elijah believes him. He rests his forehead on his brother’s knee and hums a tune in his mind.

When Niklaus is finished, a word is carved in runes on Elijah’s side. The same word he carved in stone, in a cave no one will see for centuries.

_ Niklaus. _

Elijah lets him bind the cuts and brush away his tears of pain.

He lifts Elijah’s head and rests it on his lap. Elijah closes his eyes and lets his brother’s touch slow his pounding heart.

Niklaus places one hand on Elijah’s chest. “You’re afraid,” he breathes. Softly. Disbelievingly.

Elijah turns his head upward to meet Niklaus’s eyes. “Not of  _ you _ ,” he half-lies.

Niklaus smiles, his eyes glinting with hunger. “No worry. Your fear is  _ delicious _ .” He leans down, inhaling Elijah’s scent and covering his throat with kisses.

.

The wounds heal quickly. Small white lines on Elijah’s side. He winces when someone touches them unknowingly.

Niklaus traces them at night. With his fingers, with his tongue.

.

Tatia is the only one to get close enough to notice.

“Have you been hurt?” Her fingers probe over his thin shirt where Elijah flinches.

Luckily, the night hides their exact nature. “An old accident.”

.

When Mikael discovers them, he sees the scars.

He slashes through them with a blade of his own, ruining Niklaus’s perfect work.

Elijah grows sick at the thought of what his brother would do, if he knew.

(They become vampires before he finds out. Their skin smooths over, all scars erased. Elijah is almost relieved.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	22. Chapter 22

Aurora de Martel is accustomed to having her way.

Never has she wanted anything more than the lord Niklaus.

From the moment he entered the great hall with his siblings, he shone brightest out of all of them. His beauty, his bright eyes, his enchanting smile with just a hint of coldness—he is perfect for her, she knows.

She must have him.

His older brother Elijah is an obstacle. Protective and overbearing, he is with Niklaus day and night. Murmuring in his ear—words of caution, she imagines.

He is too noble. Aurora longs to shove him aside and take Niklaus for her own.

But Niklaus is not without affection for Elijah either, she notices. He’ll play with his brother’s hair, running his fingers through the long strands. He takes Elijah’s hand often, not unlike Tristan does to her.

Yet he has eyes for her. She knows.

When she watches from afar, he looks back at her. Holds her gaze. A hint of a smile plays around his lips, she could swear.

One day he will be hers.

She dares mention her interest to his sister Rebekah one afternoon. The young lady de Guise stiffens and turns to her with wide eyes. “No,” she says. “Not Nik.”

“Why not? He is handsome, and polite, and kind.”

“Not him,” Rebekah insists. “You are the lady de Martel. You may pursue any man you like—even another of my brothers, if you wish. But Nik…” She trails off, staring into the distance as she searches for the right words. “Loving Nik will only bring pain.”

“How?” she demands. “I have never felt this before.” She places a hand over the flutter in her chest. “How can something so lovely cause pain?”

“Trust me.” Rebekah’s eyes are round with something akin to fear. “Stay away from Niklaus.”

Aurora says no more of it to Rebekah. Yet as she falls silent, she plots.

She will have her way.

.

The lady de Martel knocks on the door to Niklaus’s bedchambers late in the evening.

“Meet me in the golden hall. By the farthest column.”

“What for, my lady?”

“I wish to show you the depth of my feelings for you, my lord. Meet me at the stroke of midnight.”

“The impropriety…I daresay your father would have me thrown from his estate.”

“Only if he knows, which he will not. Will you come?”

“Perhaps. I have late night business of a different kind as well. My brother is…exceptionally demanding.”

“Then I shall wait all night.”

Niklaus closes the door on her last whisper and turns to his bed with a glint in his eye.

Elijah reclines on the blankets there, hands behind his head, shirt removed.

“Why do you lead her on so, brother?”

Niklaus shrugs as he crosses the room and climbs onto the bed beside him.

“Perhaps it’s fun. Perhaps I like to see her disappointed. Perhaps I like to see you jealous.”

Elijah’s cheeks flood with color. “I am not  _ jealous _ .” He knows Niklaus has no intention of fulfilling any promise to the lady who fawns over his every step. Yet he cannot seem to tell her  _ no _ .

(It sets Elijah’s teeth on edge. He cannot remember the last time Niklaus’s attention for him hasn’t been undivided.)

Niklaus rests Elijah’s head in his lap, stroking his cheeks with both thumbs.

“Whatever you’d like to call it. Jealousy, anger…” He bends over, planting an upside-down kiss on Elijah’s lips. “It’s  _ delicious _ .”

He leans further, running his lips down Elijah’s bare chest, over his stomach. His tongue teases Elijah’s navel as he lifts the waist of his pants in his teeth.

Elijah sighs with pleasure and moves to take them off completely.

.

Niklaus maintains this delicate balance for weeks. He is curious, he supposes, how long she will persist with her flirtations. How many times he must shrug her off before she realizes the magnitude of his indifference.

She is relentless.

Less tiresome than amusing—the disappointment on her face will create a marvelous portrait.

Elijah seethes every time she approaches, although he can hardly do anything with many eyes on them, in a place where discretion is to be their survival.

Niklaus finds the irritation of his usually-gentle brother endlessly entertaining—and it makes their evenings all the more satisfying.

He is taken aback when Elijah accosts him after a particularly long stroll with her through the meadows.

With inhuman speed Elijah whisks him into a corner, behind a wide column. He holds his wrists, pinning them to the wall near his shoulders. “Enough of this.”

Niklaus cannot conceal his wide smile. Elijah’s breath is hot and rough in his ear.

He opens his palms, surrendering. “Easy, brother.”

“I cannot bear this. You indulging her. Leading her on.”

There it is. The delicious jealousy. Niklaus can be aroused at just the thought.

“You know I have no intention—”

“I care nothing for your intentions. She steals me away from you. You look at her instead of me. She believes you harbor  _ affection _ for her.”

Niklaus nearly laughs at the disgust apparent in his brother’s voice. “I harbor no such—”

“Do not defend yourself, Niklaus. Our whole lives you have been mine. I love you far too much to share even a fraction of you.”

“My brother,” he breathes. This is a pleasant surprise. “So selfish. Did no one teach you to share as a child?”

“For once in your life, Niklaus, hold your tongue.”

He opens his mouth to make a flippant reply, but Elijah’s lips are already on his, silencing him.

Elijah locks his fingers at the back of Niklaus’s neck, holding them together. His kiss is hungry—almost desperate.

Though neither of them suffer from lack of breath, they are both gasping for air by the deep, blazing kiss.

“So commanding, Lijah. What if someone sees?”

“I care not. Let them see. Let them all see how you belong to me.”

_ You belong to me. _

Usually the words are the other way around.

But Niklaus finds he’s quite content to keep his back to the stone column, his wrists pinned and his body constrained by Elijah’s weight.

_ Yes. Yes, I do belong to you. In every way. _

“Lijah,” he hums as Elijah moves his lips along his jaw, toward his throat. “Take me here. Now.” He edges his knee up Elijah’s outer thigh, ready to hook around his big brother’s hip.

“I think not,” Elijah retorts against his neck.

He bites instead.

Niklaus breathes deep, embracing the burn as his brother feeds from him. Their minds are blown wide open, every sensation shared between them.

Elijah’s mind sings with satisfaction, lapping blood with unusual wantonness. His mouth burns hot on Niklaus’s skin.

Niklaus relishes the feeling, his brother’s lack of restraint. The risk of it all, so close to the public eye. Heat pools in his groin, and he smiles.

In their corner, they burn together.

Across the great hall, from a distance, a lady with red hair watches with horror in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


	23. Chapter 23

Niklaus pins him to a wall. There is a hungry curiosity in his eyes.

“Brother, what—”

Niklaus claps his palm over Elijah’s mouth. “Not a sound, Lijah.”

Niklaus has grown—his eyes are almost level with Elijah’s. He keeps his hand on Elijah’s mouth as he slides closer, making Elijah’s breath speed up—

And shoves a hand in Elijah’s pants.

An involuntary sound escapes through Niklaus’s fingers. He tightens his hand around Elijah’s face, squeezing his jaw in a decidedly ungentle way. “ _ Hush _ .”

Elijah bites his lip, struggling to control his moans as Niklaus touches him.

The very sight of Niklaus is enough to arouse Elijah. As close as he is now, hands eager and groping, heat pools in his groin, his stomach burning with anticipation.

Niklaus keeps his eyes on Elijah’s face, watching every flicker of his expression as his fingers explore below.

Elijah’s breaths come faster and faster. Somehow, Niklaus seems to know exactly what to do. Every touch brings him closer.

_ There. _

His mouth opens beneath his brother’s smothering hand. Niklaus seizes the opportunity and captures his lips in a kiss.

He tastes of sunshine.

Niklaus withdraws his hand and wipes his palm on the inside of Elijah’s shirt.

His fingers trail over Elijah’s bare stomach. “You’re so pretty when you’re helpless,” he breathes into Elijah’s ear.

Indeed, Elijah is paralyzed against the wall where Niklaus shoved him. His legs, he’s sure, won’t be carrying him anywhere soon.

“You…” he pants into his brother’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath. “You’re sure no one saw?”

They aren’t exactly well-hidden. Anyone could wander to the edge of the village and spot them in their sin.

Niklaus smiles, a gleeful, childish expression—like he’s just gotten away with stealing something valuable. “We’re alone, brother, I’m quite sure.” His voice is a low purr.

He traces Elijah’s pale, sweat-soaked cheek, that curious, studious expression still in place. “Pity you didn’t last longer,” he says, a teasing gleam in his eye.

Elijah’s face grows warm.

“What if…” Niklaus seems to be considered something. He casts a glance over his shoulder, as though ensuring their solitude once more. When he turns back around, his expression is even slyer than before.

“Keep holding your tongue, Lijah,” he says, before dropping to his knees.

Elijah has barely more than a second to understand before Niklaus traces his tongue along his waist, and then—

He gasps as colorful sensations wash though his body anew. His brother’s lips are warm on his skin, caressing and exploring places they’ve never been before.

“Not a sound,” Niklaus reminds him, withdrawing his teasing tongue. “We don’t want to be discovered, do we?”

Elijah bites his tongue and squeezes his eyes shut as Niklaus resumes, dragging out sensations Elijah has never experienced.

Sometimes Niklaus is gentle with him, taking his hand and leading him to new places Elijah would be too scared to go on his own.

Other times, like now, Niklaus grabs him by the neck and pushes him face first into dark, uncharted waters, leaving Elijah stunned and numb and utterly unsure of himself.

His fingers scrabble against the rock wall, forming fists when they find no traction.

_ Closer. Closer. _

All he knows is this place, his brother’s warm mouth around his—

A flicker of movement at the edge of his vision breaks the dream, just a little.

He forces himself to focus on it, seeing as Niklaus is…rather preoccupied at the moment and there is no one else to serve as lookout.

The figure watching them— _ watching them! _ —is slender and golden-haired. Hands clasped over a skirt. A familiar face, with an expression that, while blurred by distance, Elijah can tell is…not horrified.

“Brother,” he pants. “Our s—”

Niklaus tightens his hands around Elijah’s thighs. Somehow Elijah can tell, without seeing his face, that he is smiling.

A moment later he can tell why, as his mind goes blank with pleasure, sensations exploding, compounding until he can think of nothing at all.

He doesn’t return to the thought of their little sister watching them until it’s over—after Niklaus has kissed him once again with shining wet lips, after running a hand up his shirt, after smirking with satisfaction at how Elijah still quivers under his touch.

It doesn’t occur to him until hours later, when Niklaus brushes his fingers against Elijah’s lower back, with his eyes fixated on Rebekah, that perhaps Niklaus knew all along they were not alone.

.

“What did you see, little sister?”

She cups her cheek with one hand, propping her elbow on her knee listlessly. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Elijah’s stomach tightens, and not with pleasure. Niklaus has never been discreet or subtle about his desires, that’s for sure.

He doesn’t know what he wants to say to her. To ask her to keep it to herself (he knows she will), to reassure her she didn’t see what she thought (she did), to promise her it was meaningless and she’ll never see it again (all lies).

Before he can say anything, she leans forward and presses her lips to his, once. Quickly, and then it’s over.

He doesn’t even jump back in surprise.

She sighs. “Not even that will get your attention,” she says softly. “Not unless it’s  _ him _ .”

Elijah cannot assure her otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on [tumblr](https://kylermalloy.tumblr.com) too, hop over and say hi!


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